Chapter One: Asphalt Ghosts

The old Chevelle rattled beneath me, a low growl vibrating through the steering wheel as if the car was carrying all the weight I couldn't put into words. My father's car. My inheritance, in a way — not the money, not the house, just this beast of steel and memory. Every time I pressed the clutch, it felt like I was driving with his ghost in the passenger seat.

The road stretched long and familiar, cutting straight into Charming like a scar you couldn't ignore. It had been years since I'd traced this path, years since I'd breathed in this air that smelled faintly of motor oil, cigarettes, and dust. Time hadn't changed much here. The same trees leaning over the cracked asphalt, the same roadside diner with the broken neon sign. But me? I wasn't the same girl who left.

Texas had burned the softness out of me. I carried its ashes in my lungs, its shadows stitched into the back of my mind. I'd told myself I was coming home because of my father's death, because the Chevelle needed work, because I needed somewhere to land. But the truth? Somewhere deep down, I was hoping I'd see him.

Jax Teller.

I didn't say his name out loud, not even in the quiet of the car. Saying it made it too real, too dangerous. But I couldn't deny it. He was the reason my hands shook on the wheel, the reason I'd driven past three mechanics in Lodi just to bring the car here — Teller-Morrow. His family's shop. His world.

The sign came into view like an omen. Rusted letters. The same lot filled with bikes lined up in rows, chrome flashing in the late afternoon sun. I slowed, heart pounding against my ribs harder than the car's engine ever could.

I told myself he wouldn't be here. He probably had better things to do, better people to see. But still, my stomach flipped with every second I got closer.

I pulled in, gravel crunching under the tires. For a second, I just sat there with my hands gripping the wheel, staring at the garage doors and the ghosts waiting behind them. The past was heavy in this place. JT. The nights I'd spent here as a teenager, sneaking in through the side gate when I had nowhere else to go. Jax sitting on the hood of his bike, pretending like the weight of the world didn't crush his shoulders even back then.

And now, here I was. Back in Charming. Back where it all started.

I drew in a breath, shoved the door open, and stepped out. The sun caught the metal of the Chevelle, gleaming as if to announce me before I even spoke. I wanted to be invisible, but this car had never been subtle.

I took a few steps toward the shop, heart hammering louder with each one. The sound of voices carried out from inside, laughter mixed with the clang of tools. Familiar. Too familiar.

Then I heard it — my name.

Not Rae, but the one that belonged to him.

"Trouble!"

The word cut through the air, sharp and certain, freezing me in place. My chest went tight, and the world tilted, like time itself had been waiting for this moment.

I turned my head slowly, pulse thrumming in my ears.

And that's where it began again